


my sadness, my hope (but mostly, my love)

by connorswhisk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: F/M, So here we are, can we even call this heterosexual?, if vision is a synthezoid? like, oh man this show caught me in my feelings, schrodingers gay???, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorswhisk/pseuds/connorswhisk
Summary: And now they’re here, balancing on the brink of the cusp of a magical armageddon (for Vision, at least, for the boys, as well), and Wanda burns redder than ever, and if Vision were human, he’d have to avert his eyes, but seeing as he isn’t, and seeing as nobody else can see Wanda glow, anyway, he’ll allow her to sear herself into his body, as he’s always, always allowed her to do before.or, Vision reminisces before he goes
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61





	my sadness, my hope (but mostly, my love)

At first, there had been nothing.

Then, a burst of gold - and there was everything.

Where once was naught but an automated voice had become a fully-functional vibranium synthezoid- the Vision, powered by an Infinity Stone, and not quite a robot, but not quite a man, either.

His first few weeks on Earth had been loud, confusing, and tumultuous. So much had happened at once, almost too much for him to comprehend - a manner of speaking, of course, as Vision comprehends everything. There had been fighting, and arguing, and death and destruction.

But, like a beacon shining through the darkness, there had also been Wanda.

Vision sees everything in rays of color: the monochrome blue of Tony Stark’s Arc Reactor, the pale olive of Dr. Bruce Banner and the bold and brash green of The Hulk. He sees Steve Rogers’s patriotic red, white, and blue, Natasha Romanoff’s striking reds and blacks, Pietro Maximoff’s shimmering wisps of silver - and Wanda glows like none other, bright and vibrant and utterly _scarlet._

And that scarlet had needed comfort and love after her brother was killed, and Vision (somehow, inexplicably) had provided it to her; he wasn’t sure if it was something he could do, or even something he was _meant_ to do - but he’d done it all the same. It had - had _humanized_ him, to talk to Wanda and to hold her in his arms, and one moment, he’d loved her as machine and metal and Artificial Intelligence, and the next, he’d _loved_ her, as flesh and blood and so many infinitesimal ways, clustered like stars and flashing and blazing like neurons.

Vision’s not sure exactly of when he’d crossed the line from loving Wanda Maximoff to being in love with her. But it had been very sudden when he’d realized, and very strong.

And then, one night, in her room, he’d said, “Wanda.” And she’d torn her eyes from the flare of the television screen and met his gaze, and his throat had stuck, and his tongue had twisted, and he’d stared at her like a dunce for all of fifteen seconds before she’d cocked her head, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and asked, “What is it, Vis?”

He has no heart, not really, but one had jumped in his chest, anyway. “I…I…”

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you so speechless,” she had remarked, teasingly, and Vision’s parts had kicked back into motion and he’d suddenly blurted out the first word to come to his attention.

“Alexithymia.”

Wanda had frowned. “What?”

Vision had shaken his head furiously, internally wincing and cursing himself for being a walking thesaurus. “Sorry, I - From the Ancient Greek _léxis,_ speech, and _thumós,_ soul. _Alexithymia_ means the lack in ability to express one’s true feelings, the incapacity to voice the words of the heart. I…that is to say, you - well… _Alexithymia._ ”

She had been silent for a moment (7.37 seconds, to be precise), the look on her face murky and indescribable - and then she’d leaned in and kissed him, and Vision had known that she understood.

No one…No one has ever seemed to understand him in the way Wanda does.

And now they’re here, balancing on the brink of the cusp of a magical armageddon (for Vision, at least, for the boys, as well), and Wanda burns redder than ever, and if Vision were human, he’d have to avert his eyes, but seeing as he isn’t, and seeing as nobody else can see Wanda glow, anyway, he’ll allow her to sear herself into his body, as he’s always, always allowed her to do before.

“You’re scarlet,” he whispers, stroking her face.

She winces. “Not that. Please.”

“You’re _crimson,_ ” he amends, and her eyelids flutter closed as she leans her cheek into the palm of his hand. 

“You,” she murmurs quietly. “You, you, you…”

She doesn’t finish the thought.

Vision does not kiss her again. He knows that if he were to do so, Wanda may never be able to let him go.

“The boys,” he says.

She nods. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _I know._ ”

The borders of the Hex edge closer and closer, sweeping across trees and neighborhoods and streets and every part of Westview that there is - every part except the pair of them and their home, savoring the Vision and the Scarlet Witch for last.

“Wanda,” he says breathlessly, as the seconds count down and the time slips away. “Wanda, what color am I?”

She opens her eyes, gazing at him with parted lips.

“ _Please,_ ” he begs of her. “Please.”

“Vis, you’re _golden,_ ” she tells him, and he feels the Stone in his forehead pulse.

He nods. “Thank you.”

The magic hits the house. The walls start to glitch apart, the furniture fizzling in and out of different time periods - Vision feels his core begin to eat away. Painlessly. Painfully.

“Wanda.”

She swallows. “What?”

He hesitates, pauses for the briefest moment in time, and even that manages to be a moment too long.

“What?” she repeats, eyes searching him desperately. “ _What?_ Alexithymia?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

He’s almost gone, now, for a second time. The house sparks around him, sparks crimson and vermillion and burgundy and _scarlet._ The boys make no sound from upstairs. Or perhaps he simply can’t hear them over the roaring that surrounds his body.

Wanda touches his cheek.

“So long, my love,” he says, one last time, and he leaves his world behind him.

At first, there is everything.

Then, a burst of gold - and there is nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> vision pls come back i can't take this shit 


End file.
